


Promise

by autumnsolstice9



Series: Robb & Arya [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, not starkcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 02:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12379461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnsolstice9/pseuds/autumnsolstice9
Summary: "I thought I lost you"Prompt: things you said while I cried in your arms





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> i will make this tag big if i have to do it myself i s2g
> 
> this is yet another oneshot i did as a form of procrastination!!!! enjoy

When Robb finds Arya again, he breaks into tears.

At first, he isn’t sure it’s even her. Arya’s hair is cut short, her face is dirty, and she is much skinnier than she was before. He thinks that maybe it’s another peasant, but that doesn’t explain why the breath is knocked out of him and he can’t look away.

“Mother,” he calls, his voice soft and afraid. He’s seen too many people along the road that have resembled Arya, there are so many little girls in the North who look like his sister. But this, this is different.

His mother comes to his side, her brows pinched in worry. “Robb,” she calls, putting a hand on his shoulder, “what is wrong?”

He can’t form words- he can only stare at the little girl across the field, some 20 meters away. “Mother,” he breathes out, “is that… do you think…”

Robb tries to explain, but his throat feels like it’s closing and his heart is in his chest. He can’t look away, and his mother follows his eyes to the little girl pushing past people and towards the King in the North.

He hears a gasp, and finally he can tear his eyes away and look at his mother. One hand is clapped over his mouth, the one holding his shoulder squeezing painfully tight. Tears are welling in her eyes, and he knows. He _knows._

“Arya,” he whispers, and his mother is vigorously nodding her head, and Robb can feel the tears form in his eyes.

“Arya,” he says again, beginning to push his way through the crowd of men, heading towards his sister.

“Arya,” he repeats, this time louder. His feet are moving faster, and he is bumping into people, but he refuses to break eye contact with his sister.

“Arya,” he practically shouts, his voice loud across the camp. She is so close, only a few meters away, and he is running.

“Arya,” he breathes out as he reaches her, wrapping his arms around her.

He is openly sobbing, but he doesn’t care. Let the men in his camp talk, for all he cares. Arya is here, finally, finally here.

“I thought I lost you,” he says between gasping sobs. “I thought you were gone.”

Her arms are tight around him, and he is sure that unpleasant smell is her, but he can’t find it in himself to care. She is here, she is _safe,_ she is _alive._

“I was so scared, Robb,” he hears, muffled by her face buried in his cloak. “I was terrified.”

He has never been happier in his life, holding her in his arms. It is beyond comparison. But her words hurt him, imagining his sister living in fear.

“You won’t ever have to be scared again, I promise.”

Their mother is nearly upon them, and he begins to release Arya so she can run into their lady mother’s arms.

As he lets go of her, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I promise, Arya,” and even he can’t ignore how shaky his voice is through his tears, “never again. You’ll never have to be scared again.”

She nods her head, so quick to believe him, and begins to run to their mother. His arms ache to hold her again, just to be certain that this is not a dream. She’s back, she’s really, truly back.

He’s going to try his damn hardest to make sure she doesn’t have to live in terror again.

***

At their uncle’s wedding, he know he can’t keep his promise.

His eyes meet Arya’s, and he only has time to tell her to run before the massacre starts.

Talisa is dying, his mother is screaming, and Arya has tears running down her face as she tries to escape.

Robb can feel the tears on his own face, as well. 

“Please,” he begs, his voice hoarse against his throat, “leave her. Let her live. Please.”

Walder Frey gives him a smirk, and Robb doesn’t even care that there are arrows protruding from him. He cares that his sister is wielding a dinner knife against men three times her size, that she is a Stark in a world that wants them dead. 

“Please,” he says, again, “please. I’ll do anything. Just let her live.”

Walder Frey rises, and all the movement in the room stops. “Perhaps,” he begins, his voice like a creaky door, “you should have thought of that before you broke your vow. I was supposed to have my granddaughter marry a King, not the uncle to one.”

“Please,” Robb cries, his voice fainter this time as blood pours out of him.

This time, the reply he gets isn’t verbal. A knife is being plunged into Robb’s neck, and his only thought is that at least he doesn’t have to see Arya die. At least he is the first to go.

He starts to fall to the ground, and in his periphery he sees Arya do the same, a deep red line across her throat that gushes blood.

His mother screams, and there is nothing he can do.

He closes his eyes, and there is nothing he can do.

 _I’m sorry,_ he thinks, his mind a haze and only getting hazier, _that I broke my promise._

Maybe in the next life he’ll be able to tell Arya how truly sorry he is.

**Author's Note:**

> oops i did a copout sorry!!!
> 
> but anytime i picture robb and arya's reunion, the red wedding is involved in some capacity oops


End file.
